


Afternoon Delight

by Devilc



Series: Guess Who's Coming to Dinner [5]
Category: DCU, DCU - Comicverse, JSA
Genre: Angst, Blow Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-06
Updated: 2010-03-06
Packaged: 2017-10-07 18:25:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/67916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Devilc/pseuds/Devilc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What The Shade does mean by all that flirting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Afternoon Delight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dien](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dien/gifts).



> So, I've written several Shade and Jay stories, most notably Tea and Lechery where there's flirting and UST going on.
> 
> But, Jay's so devoted to Joan (and so straight in canon) that despite many requests for Shade/Jay I didn't think my subconscious would burble up an idea that I actually believed (and therefor could write) about the two of them. And then, one morning, while drowsing in bed, in that sludgy state of semi-consciousness, it hit me.
> 
> Set several years after Tea and Lechery. Written before _Infinite Crisis_ and _Flash_ #13.

It had been a most strange visit from Jay Garrick. Even someone far less attuned to the subtleties of the human condition than I would have noticed that an untouched lemonade, nigh constant dry washing of hands, and a jerky, unfocused conversation signaled trouble.

 

There are times when between Jay, Alan, Jack, and Todd, I feel as if I've become an adjunct member of the JSA  their confessor. They may cry on Ma Hunkel's shoulder but they air their dirty laundry on mine. Perhaps it's my checkered past, or perhaps it's the freedom with which I've lived (and still continue to live) my life, but I ~~suspect~~ know that they tell me things that they do not share with anyone else.

 

Jay was saying something about Joan putting in some Peonies and when his voice trailed off, I looked him in the eye and cut to the chase, saying, "Is Bart the problem?"

 

"What?! Um. No. No, Bart is fine, it's just ..." he sighed heavily and ran his hands through his hair.

 

I arched an expectant eyebrow but said nothing.

 

He studied his shoes, my shoes, the fireplace poker did anything but meet my eyes and finally said, "Um ... all that flirting with me you do. Do you mean anything by it?" His eyes rabbited up to my face and as quickly darted back to their intense study of his slightly scuffed oxfords. "I mean, if Joan  if it was okay, what would you do?"

 

There was no thought on my part  just reaction. Shadow snaked out, wound around him, binding him to the chair, spun the chair around and jerked it to me. "Why, Jay," I said in a low, breathy, _you-are-playing-with-fire _ voice, "I think I would begin with putting my hands on your shoulders," which I then did, "and leaning in," which I likewise did, "and savoring the look on your face" his eyes were wide with shock above his shadow-stopped mouth, "and then " and here I leaned in very close, making my voice a promise laden whisper in his ear, "I would get on my knees before you and swallow what you had to give me."

 

He groaned at that.

 

"But I mislike idle speculation and teasing," I hissed, "and the Jay I know is so thoroughly devoted to his wife that this line of questioning makes me _deeply suspicious _. So now, I will remove the shadow from your mouth, and I had better like the answer that comes from it or I will move heaven and earth to get to the bottom of this."

 

I ripped the shadow away and Jay drew in a deep, shuddery breath and said, "It's Joan, she - she ..."

 

"Yes?" I asked in my blackest tone. I would brook no threat to Jay or Joan, and if someone or something were mucking about with the Garricks, it would rue the day it had sought to pull me into its machinations.

 

Heavy sigh. "Because of, well, the life I've led, I may have lived as long as Joan, but physically? I'm decades younger. In peak shape. And Joan? She's in her 90s. A spry 90s but ... she's - she's ..." He took a deep breath, and I think the next words out his mouth were the hardest he's ever had to say, "She said that she's getting too old for loving and that it was okay, if .... If I, you know, that I had her blessing, that she wanted me to be happy. And she tries and I love her, but her arthritis, and just plain old age ..." his voice dropped to a whisper, "it isn't enough."

 

I felt as much as heard my mouth click shut.

 

The dam had been broke; the words almost tumbled out of his mouth, "And it's not like I haven't been, you know, taking matters into my own hands, and Joan even suggested I approach Libby, but I _can't _, it's just not .... I mean, I appreciate a well turned ankle and a shapely bosom as well as the next man, but Joan really is the only woman for me "

 

"And I'm not a woman, am I?" I smiled and loosened the shadows marginally.

 

He blushed. "Well, no, but ...."

 

"I understand." And I did. So long as Joan drew breath, a mixture of devotion and guilt  even though he had her permission; the human heart is a strange thing  would not allow him to take a woman as a lover. But since I was a man, it seemed the same rules did not apply to me.

 

"So, I suppose you probably want me to go now. I, um. I hope I can still talk to you from time to time, and I won't bring this "

 

"My dear fellow, what are you nattering on about?" I laughed, causing him to start.

 

"You mean, you  you're  you were serious about ?!"

 

"Tell me, Jay," I purred into his ear, "how much experience do you have?"

 

In a hesitant voice  and it must have been exceedingly hard for a man of his background to say the words  "Um ... outside of the fooling around that all boys do? None. Joan gave me everything I ever needed so I wasn't really ever ... tempted."

 

"I'll take it slow, then." And ran my hands down the front of his body.

 

"A-aren't you going to untie me?"

 

"Mmm ... no. I like the thought of you this way. Guarantees you won't act on any second thoughts in the middle of something interesting."

 

Reflexively, he twitched in an attempt to vibrate loose, but well I know how to make my shadow impervious to super speedsters. Gagging him again with shadow, I slipped my hands through his bonds and underneath his shirt, stroking his chest, delighting in searching out his sensitive spots, listening for that tell-tell hitch in his breathing (since I could not see his face) and mapping his body until I got a groan and a writhe. All the while, I kept up a running stream of commentary in his ear, enumerating all the times and ways he had wormed his way into my rather cold heart with his wit, style, and cleverness. I assured him that right now, this was all about him, and used more streams of shadow to unbuckle, unbutton and unzip before finally reaching a hand in and touching what I confess I have longed to touch for quite some time now.

 

Hard as wood, seeping at the tip. I chortled with delight as he groaned and bucked his hips as much as his shadowy bonds allowed.

 

How I delighted in tormenting him! Stroking with fingers and streamers of shadow-stuff, I brought him to the edge again and again for at least 30 mintues, until the sheer look of nigh-crazed desperation in those blue eyes inclined me to show him some mercy and grant him release.

 

I thought about finishing him off with my hands, but decided to stay true to my word. I knelt before him and drew him into my mouth, a swirl of tongue and shadow sending him over the edge almost instantly. Thus catching only a scant view of his face through my lashes at _the moment _, eyes rolled back, breath escaping in a whoosh as his whole body tensed, strained to arch so much the chair creaked alarmingly (!! it being of stout construction) and finally sagged, limp and utterly sated as I swallowed the last jolt of his seed.

 

Without further ado, I stood, cleaned him up, tucked him in, zipped, buttoned, and buckled. When I finally unbound and ungagged him, he looked at me rather blearily and said, "Y'know, I don't even know your name."

 

"Indeed, you do not." I smiled. "I don't let that slip until the third date."

 

He laughed. "So ... I guess this is happening."

 

"Yes, it is. Now let's get you home. Mustn't have Joan thinking you've run off and aren't coming back."

 

Jay gave a crooked smile and said, "No, not that."

 

I deposited him on his front porch without materializing myself. Joan may have given her blessing for Jay to find another woman, but I had no idea how she'd feel about the other woman being a man, or me specifically and thought it best not to tempt fate.

 

Especially when right now she seems inclined to bring me so much more.


End file.
